If Only There Were Magic
by NoirxAnge
Summary: Amidst his normal routine of working, working, working, and a smidgen of rest, Harry Potter wonders what his life would've been like if there were magic in the world. A wandering star twinkled, and he gets his wish. Welcome, to Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, now home to the Chosen One's alter ego. rated T just in case


Summary: Amidst his normal routine of working, working, working, and a smidgen of rest, Harry Potter wonders what his life would've been like if there were magic in the world. A wandering star twinkled, and he gets his wish. Welcome, to Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, now home to the Chosen One's alter ego.

Pairings: Harry Potter/Severus Snape, (past/) Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy

Rating: T (just in case haha)

Author's Note: Hahaha ha ha hi. It's been a while. But I'm now free from school for a while, and am trying to keep my ff page up to date with mine over at AO3 (hint: if you want more stories and more chapters, AO3 is a much better site to look at for my stuff :-) and I personally think it's a better site in general). Anyway, I'll be hopefully writing more frequently now, so let's all hope for more (better?) work coming! Thanks for waiting for me :'-)

Chapter 1

 _Ah, Death would be more welcoming than this._

Harry James Potter flopped down ungracefully to his bed, the hard mattress unforgiving against his sore body. Almost black eye bags circled his closed green eyes, which had been radiant emerald once but now held a dull light. His cheeks were almost sunken, lips dry and chapped. His hair laid flat against his skull, his skin a pale, almost sickly, shade of whitish grey. His apartment was dilapidated, some parts of the wall with decomposing wallpaper wet from leakages in the water pipes behind, a smell not unlike that of mould could be detected throughout the place, causing many noses to wrinkle in distaste and even disgust. It was dark, with heavy curtains hiding the scenery from him and him from the outside world.

If you asked a much younger Harry Potter if this had been what he expected when he finally got emancipated, he would have vehemently objected to this condition in which his future self stayed in. He had wanted a whole new change from the horrid conditions he had lived in with his relatives, and wanted to be who he always wanted to be: a free young man with power and confidence, heathy and happy, in a job he loved, with a partner he loved and loved him back wholly.

But there was no mistake that Harry Potter did not achieve his goals; he fell instead, into this hellhole where he lived each day in the simple routine of work, work, _work_ , and maybe a fortunate few hours of light rest. He could hardly remember the last time he had some time to himself, and couldn't remember when he last had fun. With the little time he even had to rest, he could hardly afford his meals and rent, let alone time to spare getting to know a potential partner.

Just as Harry started to nod off, a loud shrilling alarm shocked him out of his sleep. A click sounded, and he sat back up straight, rubbing his eyes tiredly with his palms in an effort to wake himself up. It never helped before, and it never would. A heavy sigh broke out of his lips, and his entire spirit deflated, his eyes losing even more of that gleam he used to have. Just as his previous shift ends, his next one begins; it was a never ending cycle. _I guess this is what I get for not completing junior college and just coming out to the working world._

But he didn't have the luxury of choosing; he had been thrown out of the Dursleys' residence on the day of his eighteenth birthday, the day he finally became an adult in the eyes of the law. Even though he didn't want to stay in their presence any longer, he knew he couldn't survive long studying and working at the same time, and stupidly hoped his relatives would at least help him this much. But of course they didn't; why would they suddenly want to offer help to the little boy whom they've only shown hatred and hostility to, in the form of beatings and neglect? Nonetheless Harry had held hope that they would allow him to have more time, and was led to crash down to the hard cold truth. He would never be wanted, and had never been.

Without any financial support or back up, Harry couldn't afford the school and tuition fees, not when he had to find a job that would hire him who had no qualifications, that would let him make enough to rent a semi-acceptable apartment and feed himself. So he left school and joined the cruel harsh world without any preparations.

All he felt now was just loneliness. Exhaustion. Cold.

Whatever friends he did have back in school were long lost to the passage of time, with them furthering their studies while he spent every living second working and worrying about his next meal and rent. Any new friends he could've made with his colleagues were unfortunately driven away due to the lack of energy he even had to interact with people. He heard their whispers, that they thought that Harry Potter thought himself above them, never wanting to lower himself to the likes of them. He let the rumours be, and never bothered trying to discourage them. Even if there were some people who attempted to reach out to him, they would quickly give up from the repeated rejections. Every single job he had was filled with the exact same hostility towards him, even now, in all three workplaces, it was the same.

It was no wonder he was alone.

He had no friends, no loved ones, no one who would miss him if he were gone and not be seen.

What was the point of him being the sole survivor in the car accident that killed both his parents, when it brought him the only option of living like this?

He tried once, to make this apartment his, but it didn't fill the cavity in his chest, and soon, he just let himself fall to this state, because nothing, nothing did it for him anymore.

He didn't have the passion, the will, the strength to carry on, to even make a change in his life.

Harry Potter was giving up.

The emptiness made him part the curtains and look out the window, and it eased slightly as he watched the night sky. The stars seemed to twinkle at him as they always did, and once again, gave him that familiar burn of hope. A tick, and a melody so familiar and nostalgic sounded beautifully, sadly from the clock on the wall as the minute hand struck twelve. It resonated within him; he stared up at the skies and spotted a wandering star, and smiled bitterly.

 _And it's the twenty-sixth year you've been born into this world where even family has forsaken you. Happy birthday, Harry James Potter. If only magic were real; maybe that could give you reprieve from this hell._

He sighed dejectedly and took his hand away from the dark curtain, letting it fall back to hide the sky. As he turned around and tidied himself a bit before heading to work, he never saw the way the threads of his fate changed.

He never saw the lightening of the colour of the curtains, he never saw the bright white light emitting from the gap, he never saw the pitying eyes of the small figure standing on the window frame, and he definitely never saw the whole world turning white coming.

He stopped short of turning the door knob, and collapsed, his chest tight, him being unable to breathe. White sparks swirled around his body, and once the minuscule figment of light landed on him, time and space distorted, usurping him into thin air. He left, without a single trace of his disappearance, and only when he was away from work for days and his bosses called him to bark at him for his unapproved leave, but were met with the cold monotonous sound of the default voicemail, did anyone even find out he was gone. Only then was the undeniable truth laid in front of the eyes of anyone who cared.

Harry James Potter had disappeared from the face of this world.

The first thing he registered in his mind as different, was the gentle breeze with the scent of clean grass wafting through the air, a sharp contrast to the heavily polluted air in the part of London where he lived and worked. The fresh air purified his lungs, and made breathing a delight. He felt clean.

The next thing he could feel was different; a warmth throbbing through his entire body. Harry tended to turn cold very easily, but with this core of heat and warmth, he was toasty, a comfort that he didn't experience much of before. It was at the tip of his nose, his fingers, his toes. Wait, his toes? He wriggled his free toes, and felt something alike to feathers tickling his soles.

His nose wrinkled, and slowly, green eyes opened, to see a wide blue sky that was occasionally splattered with white clouds that moved with the wind, causing the eyes to widen in amazement. He never knew the sky could be so blue and brightly and... _free_. There was a new spark lit up in his eyes, one full of wonder and an innocence he didn't know he could still feel after years with the Dursleys.

Laughter bubbled in his chest; he couldn't resist it. He was almost giddy from his excitement and pure happiness. Felicity just _oozed_ out of his body, as the man spun around with his arms spread out widely. He had stood up subconsciously in his childish want to hold the sky. Digging his toes into the soft green grass, Harry just indulged in this unfamiliar yet addicting sensation, closing his eyes to better _feel_.

Whilst he got carried away by his new magical surroundings, Harry failed to realise that a tall shadowy figure was creeping up behind him, and the trail of red light shooting towards him.

He just fell. And returned to a dark abyss.


End file.
